Reporter Says Goodbye

It's The People She'll Miss

February 01, 1989|By MELISSA WALL Staff Writer

They kept talking about his eyes.

Days before I saw Johnny Franks, personnel from the Children's Hospital of the King's Daughters would pause in mid-phone conversation about the family's struggle to bring the ventilator-dependent infant home.

They'd start to wax eloquently about those blue eyes.

The Franks let myself and photographer Scott Kingsley into their lives for a few weeks last fall. Their story was a fight against bureaucracy: The Franks qualified for assistance because of high medical bills, yet the government would only help if their son stayed in the hospital - even though it was cheaper to keep him home.

But there also was the more human story of a brave young couple trying to bring home and care for a son who was paralyzed from head to foot. That struggle and those sparkling blue eyes are among the most vivid memories I'll take with me as I leave this newspaper to begin a job at The Charlotte Observer.

In the four years I've worked here, I've written two columns, On the Job and Off the Wall. I've driven a car across the country for a six-part series, hopped a helicopter out to a homeward-bound Navy destroyer, watched pigs race for Oreos and ridden in the Goodyear blimp.

But it's the people I'll remember most. I have met, interviewed and shared short but intense windows of time with hundreds across Hampton Roads. For all those lost in the files, there are many more I'll never forget.

One was Liz Vantrease. When Liz, an assistant managing editor at this newspaper, left to pursue a career in music, a lot of people admired her for making a career change after working for years in journalism. But before she received her degree, Vantrease was diagnosed with ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease. The disease debilitates the body until it is so weak it must be attached to a ventilator.

When I went to interview Liz, her voice was slurred and hard to follow; she was using a wheelchair. But she was honest and upbeat about her future. She would finish her degree at Virginia Commonwealth University and keep working on her opera. She would do all she could with her life.

Liz made me pause over any minor quibbles with my own existence. Mornings I don't feel like getting out of bed, I need only think how her every move is a struggle.

I also think of the Robinskys and their 7-year-old son Mark. In September 1987, Mark was one of the first children from Hampton Roads to receive a bone marrow transplant. His parents, May and Butch, took him to one of the best hospitals in the country for the procedure, and my editors sent photographer Dennis Tennant and me to Minneapolis to talk to them.

For two days, we followed the family, including the grandparents, Dee and Ed, and Mark's little brother, Russell, the donor of the marrow. We saw a little boy lying in pain in a hospital bed, his body stripped of immunities, his head a black stubble of hair. Even the drip of morphine couldn't stop the hurting. We also saw a remarkable family come together.

Arriving home, I sat down to write the story feeling drained and depressed, asking myself how this family could continue to cope. But I also had shared their glimmer of hope and somehow knew they would have the strength to hold on.

I ran into Mark's uncle not long ago. He said his nephew was doing great, was back to doing normal kid things. The family has breathed a sigh of relief, but it always will be on guard. Mark Robinsky may play like any other kid his age, but he'll never be an ordinary boy.

That's been my job here - not to uncover the politician's latest shenanigans or the scandals of the business world. Instead, I've written stories about people whose courage is tattooed in my memory forever.

A lot of people have asked me what it was like to be a feature writer here. I tell them I've been surrounded by the most creative, talented and quirky people at the newspaper. Packed into one small, windowless office, we learned to love each other or lose our minds. Most days, we did a little of both.

We work extremely hard and have been rewarded the last few years with state awards and just last month were recognized by the JCPenney-University of Missouri awards for having one of the best feature departments for a newspaper this size in the country.

We also have had a lot of fun.

I've been one of those helping with our many reader participation contests like the annual Halloween story writing competition, the tie-dye T-shirt party and the baseball glove essays. Every one who has entered has helped us have fun.